


i put sugar on everything

by Authoress



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Eating out, M/M, Sexual Intercourse, gratuitous coffee imagery, in which yaku and lev both have feelings but only one of them admits it, it started out as a hook up how did it end up like this, no one must know, tfw ur kouhai is a dweeb and u accidentally fall for him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:08:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8906629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authoress/pseuds/Authoress
Summary: Yaku won’t admit it, but he lives for the smell of coffee.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fooshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fooshi/gifts).



> THIS ENDED UP BEING...MUCH LONGER THAN INTENDED. IM A MESS. 
> 
> anyway, please enjoy my first real yakulev fic!! i really love writing yaku, and permanent supermodel lev is also the greatest. this is the second of my latest round of commissions (it took me way too long to write this fic).
> 
> final note: yaku is trans in this fic. enjoy!

 

Yaku won’t admit it, but he lives for the smell of coffee.

It’s not that there’s anything embarrassing about the coffee, exactly. The coffee itself is fine. Black, hot, with three sugars unless he’s feeling particularly crabby, in which case it’s four. Yaku could drown in that coffee quite happily, and will admit to that fact. But if there’s coffee in his apartment from the mom-and-pop café around the corner, it can only mean Lev is involved and like _hell_ is Yaku going to admit to depending on Lev for _anything_.

“Morning!” Lev chirps. He shoves the door to Yaku’s apartment open with his butt, filling the air with the heavenly scent of roasted coffee beans and Yaku allows himself to take a deep breath in and sink back into his covers.

“Mornin’,” Yaku replies and yuck, alright, his voice is super scratchy. He feels like he slept for eight hundred years and there is no way he’s going to be able to get out of bed and go to class today. He silently wills Lev to bring the coffee into the bedroom.

Lev is either a psychic, or (more likely) he knows Yaku’s morning habits by heart. He pokes his head into Yaku’s bedroom, green eyes far too bright for someone who had woken up at seven or so. He’s already dressed, a baseball cap on top of a baggy varsity volleyball jacket and skinny jeans that make his already gangly legs look a mile long.

He brushes his bangs out of his eyes, a cup carrier with two to-go cups of coffee in it in his other hand, and smiles at Yaku. “It’s your favorite, Yaku-san,” he says. “Only three sugars, ‘cause you looked really happy when I left you this morning.”

This. This is why Yaku can never admit that he lives for the smell of coffee.

Because coffee means Lev and Lev means that Yaku gets swallowed up by this…this _something_. It aches in his chest and sticks out like a sore thumb in his mind that he can never quite ignore. It’s there when Lev walks in and sees Yaku looking like a zombie, bags under his eyes and hair a mess, and he still smiles. It’s there when Lev calls him _Yaku-san_ , even now. It’s in the fact of their morning routine and Lev’s knowledge of Yaku’s preferences. It’s in the way that Lev looks like a model in his casual clothes, and that he belongs to Yaku.

Lev has Yaku feeling some sort of way, and that is absolutely not allowed.

So Yaku says: “Were you watching me while I was sleeping? Pervert. And stop being so cheerful, you’re giving me a headache.”

“Aw, Yaku-san,” Lev says, laughing and clutching his chest. “You wound me so.”

Yaku peeks out from the covers and makes grabby hands. “Coffee,” he grumbles.

Lev clicks his tongue. “You have to sit up if you want your coffee. I’m not going to watch you spill coffee all over your sheets and then blame it on me for not warning you.”

Yaku glares at him. Lev taunts him, waving the cupholder in front of Yaku. Finally, Yaku sits straight up, wrapping his covers around his shoulders until he’s encompassed in a blanket burrito. Lev’s smile widens. He hands Yaku his coffee and sits next to him.

“There’s a pastry in the kitchen too, but you have to actually get up for that one,” Lev adds.

Yaku grunts. Anything that isn’t coffee can wait. He inhales the steam from the travel cup and raises it to his lips. The coffee is hot and bittersweet, and it sinks straight to his core, bringing him to life.

“Oh, yeah,” Yaku says. “I’m a human being again.” He leans back and Lev is already there, a hard chest to prop himself up against and warm through the blanket around Yaku’s shoulder. Lev tucks his chin over Yaku’s shoulder lightly, as if Yaku would push him away. It’s fine though—Lev has been so good to him that Yaku doesn’t mind letting him have this.

Lev sips at his own coffee—some caramel-frappe-latte-ccino if Yaku knows Lev—and hums a song from the radio. They stay like that for a while, Yaku’s stand-up fan whirring in the background and the only noise aside from the occasional sound of sipping at coffee. Yaku lets himself sink into the familiarity and comfort of being quiet with Lev until he gets too weirded out by _Lev_ being _quiet_.

“Alright,” he says, throwing off the blanket. “Where the hell is that pastry? I need my sugar.”

“But Yaku-san,” Lev says, “you already had so much sugar in your coffee.”

Yaku smacks him in the face with a pillow. “Oh, like I want to hear that from you, you humongous hypocrite. How much did that dessert drink cost you?”

Lev grins. “You’ll just get mad if I tell you.”

“Exactly,” Yaku huffs.

“You have a bigger sweet tooth than me, though.”

Yaku throws up his hands and stands up in his bed, making the mattress creak. Lev yelps and clutches at his coffee, trying to keep it from spilling. Yaku steps onto the floor and points a finger at Lev. “ _Don’t_ spill in my bed.”

“Yes, sir!” Lev chirps, saluting him with his free hand. He’s like a dream, silver hair turned white from the light pouring in through Yaku’s window and the soft tint of rose to his cheeks. Yaku hates looking at him. He glowers and turns away, scratching at his chest. Jeez, that kid. The things he did to Yaku’s heart.

In the end, they end up squished together on Yaku’s loveseat, sharing the pastry. Yaku peels off pieces and feeds them to either Lev or himself while they watch the morning news. It’s going to be another hot day, typical for August in Tokyo. Thank god Yaku only has a few classes to go to today. Sweat and a binder did not go well together.

“Oi,” Yaku says, poking Lev with his toe. “Don’t you have a morning class?”

Lev blinks innocently at him.

“Don’t give me that look,” Yaku growls. “You can’t keep skipping class for my sake.”

“But I hate the thought of just leaving you to wake up alone,” Lev says.

“I don’t care,” Yaku says. “I mean, it’s just a hook-up. Class is more important, isn’t it?”

Ah, there it is, just like clockwork. The way Lev reacts to _just a hook-up_ , the thing that’s been worrying Yaku. He doesn’t flinch, exactly, but his lips press tighter together and he can’t look Yaku in the eyes. All of his body language becomes defensive. Yaku knows he hates that word. Hook-up.

But that’s what they’re doing, isn’t it? During Lev’s first week at university they had gone out for dinner, had a little to drink at Yaku’s place, and then Yaku had kissed him and he had kissed back and they slept together. Kept sleeping together. It wasn’t anything serious, just two friends with benefits. Lev liked small, cute things and Yaku liked athletic builds and men who were willing to please. It was a good arrangement, until Lev started getting like this.

“So, what, I show up to your place, stay the night, and leave without so much as a kiss goodbye?” Lev says, dragging his hand back through his hair. He’s irritated, and both the look on his face and the movement are unbearably sexy. Yaku takes a moment to mourn his dislike for morning sex and another moment to consider asking Lev to act serious like this next time they fucked.

“I can’t do that,” Lev says. “That’s such a douchebag thing to do.”

Yaku sighs. “And _I’m_ telling you it’s _okay_ , you big doofus.” He flicks Lev across the nose and Lev sputters. “I care about your education. I know _you_ care about your education. That comes before being nice to me, you hear?”

“But…” Lev looks at Yaku, brows pulled together. “But I like spending slow mornings with you, Yaku-san.”

“Gross,” Yaku says. “Get out of my apartment.”

It’s meant in jest, they both know it, but Lev still looks put out, his mouth twisted. Yaku sighs. He leans forward and kisses Lev’s forehead, pressing his lips into the creases he finds between his brows. Lev blinks and makes the tiniest noise of surprise.

Yaku leans back and smiles. “If you leave now, you’ll only be fifteen minutes late. It’s worth it to show up late. Go on, get out of here.”

Lev accepts his peace offering. He unfolds his giraffe legs and climbs off the couch, making sure to climb _over_ Yaku and force a squeak out of his friend. Yaku smacks his ass as he walks past and Lev shoots him a shit-eating grin. Alright. They’re cool.

“Don’t forget your key,” Yaku calls, curling up under a blanket with the absence of Lev’s warmth. Lev clicks his tongue and backtracks to the kitchen, scooping the key to Yaku’s apartment off the counter.

“I’ll see you Saturday, Yaku-san!” he calls as he heads out the door, offering up a final brilliant smile before he disappears into the creeping morning light.

Yaku’s apartment goes quiet with the absence of his gangly silver cub. The chatter of the television breaks the ringing silence, but Yaku still feels it settling over his shoulders, heavy as the blanket in his lap. When had Lev become such an integral part of Yaku’s life? He _liked_ a quiet apartment—that’s why he lived alone. Lev’s intrusion should only be welcomed because of the caffeine and warmth he brought with him.

Yaku doesn’t get it. He shivers and pulls the blanket up to his chest.

The smell of coffee, like Lev, is gone.

 

\-------------------------------

 

“ _You’re whipped_ ,” is Sugawara’s entirely unwelcome opinion when Yaku complains about Lev that night. Yaku has half a mind to hang up on him, especially given that smirk, but unfortunately Sugawara was the only one Yaku could talk to who wouldn’t blab to the rest of Nekoma.

“Remind me why I talk to you, again?” Yaku grumbles anyway.

On the screen, Sugawara holds up his hand, pressing fingers down as he lists off people. “ _Yamamoto can’t keep a secret, Kuroo would never let you live it down, Kai has enough to worry about on the pre-med track, Inuoka **definitely** can’t keep a secret, Kozume doesn’t care, it’d be embarrassing to talk to Shibayama when he’s your kouhai, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Fukunaga speak more than five words at a time_.”

“I have more friends than just my old teammates, you know!” Yaku yells.

“ _Exactly!_ ” Sugawara says, grinning. “ _You’ve got me!_ ”

Yaku groans and thumps his head on the desk. “I’m not whipped,” he mutters.

“ _Alright, alright_ ,” Sugawara says. “ _You’re not whipped_.”

Yaku looks up. “It’s just a hook-up,” he mumbles. “There’s nothing more to it.”

“ _Uh-huh_ ,” Sugawara says. “ _The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem_.”

“Oh, shut it,” Yaku says. “It’s not like that. He just…he does so many nice things for me without me asking. Even when I ask him not to! It’s gotten to the point where we can order for each other in restaurants and it’s hard to fall asleep without the sound of his breathing. That’s not exactly what I signed up for.”

“ _What **did** you sign up for, then?_ ”

Yaku goes quiet. Stress relief? A way to work out his sexual frustration? A solution to his desire to curl his fingers in Lev’s pale hair and _tug_? It’s awful hard to remember. “I don’t really know,” he says, laying his head on the desk.

Sugawara’s expression gets softer. “ _Maybe that’s because your reason for seeing him has changed._ ”

“So…what? I _like_ him?” Yaku snorts. “So you have any idea how many times I had to kick that boy’s ass around in high school? How many times he’s gotten bruises on his shins because he likes to push my buttons?”

“ _Isn’t that how kids show their love? Fighting?_ ” Sugawara counters.

“We weren’t children,” Yaku sighs. “I don’t know why he did it. At the time I just thought he was stupid since I had to tutor him in English and algebra.”

“ _You were his favorite senpai, though_.”

That’s true—Lev had said it to Yaku’s face when he was graduating. Granted, that had been through a mess of snot and tears. Lev had picked Yaku up, much to his horror, and shoved his sniffly, snotty face into Yaku’s shoulder so that he could blubber _you were always my favorite, Yaku-san_. The kid was definitely a masochist. No one in their right mind would prefer the senpai that beat them into the ground.

He had always thought that maybe Lev was just a born troublemaker, coming up to Yaku with big, bright eyes and taunting words to piss off his libero. But now that he thought on it, maybe that had never been the case. Lev wore his heart on his sleeve, as open to injury as it was endearing. He had won over the hearts of his teammates despite the braggart attitude and disrespect he also brought to the table. He had won over Karasuno’s number ten. Yaku understands. It was hard to hate someone when his love was as honest as his comments on Yaku’s height.

“ _—ku. Yaku. Hey, earth to Morisuke_ ,” Sugawara says.

Yaku jumps. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “I was absorbed in thought.”

Sugawara leans his cheek into his hand. “ _You look so youthful when you think of him. Your expression gets so soft and all the scowl-lines go away_.”

“Your point?” Yaku grunts.

“ _He adores you, Yaku_ ,” Sugawara says. His smile curls into a frown. “ _Make sure you’re clear with him, won’t you?_ ”

“About what?” Yaku asks.

“ _Your feelings_ ,” Sugawara says. “ _If he’s admired you this long, it’s possible that this is more than a hook-up to him. You have to be prepared for that. How will you deal with the situation if your feelings don’t match up?_ ”

“It won’t happen,” Yaku says, heart rate picking up. “We established this as a friends-with-benefits relationship, nothing more. Lev knows this.”

“ _Just…I don’t want you to get hurt_ ,” Sugawara says. “ _Either of you. Don’t lead him on if you don’t feel the same way. And if you feel more than you’re willing to admit, don’t walk over your own feelings to keep the status quo_.”

Yaku chews the inside of his cheek and pouts. “I would never.”

“ _You so would_ ,” Sugawara says. “ _It’s not a sign of weakness to care for another person, you know?_ ”

Yaku pouts harder. “You talk like you know everything.”

“ _That’s because I know everything_ ,” Sugawara says. His shit-eating grin reminds Yaku of thinner, paler lips that he knew the look and feel and taste of as much as his own. He has to look away.

“ _Think it over before your double date, okay?_ ” Sugawara says. “ _You’ll feel better if you can make peace with yourself_.”

“It’s _not_ a double date!” Yaku squeaks. “We’re friends! Just friends!”

“ _Whatever you say_ ,” Sugawara says. “ _Rest up for your ‘totally platonic’ date tomorrow, then. Night, Yaku_.”

“Night, Sugawara.”

_You’re wrong_ , Yaku thinks, closing his laptop and rolling into bed. _It’s not what you think_.

_But it is, it is, it is._

 

\-----------------------------

 

_It’s not a date_ , Yaku reminds himself. _We are accompanying our mutual-friend couple in a **friendly** outing. Between **friends**._

Yaku says that, but he’s never actually been on a date. Embarrassing to admit, but he always pushed away potential suitors out of fear or lack of interest. University was hard enough without romantic distractions and in high school, well, he had volleyball. Wasn’t much time for anything but brushing shoulders with his teammates and looking after them, not that he ever minded. Yaku thinks this probably doesn’t look like a date. Lev is wearing a tank top, after all. Seems like a pretty shabby outfit to wear on a date.

It’s a black tank, with neon Cyrillic characters saying something or other in Russian. (“It’s a gift, Yaku-san,” Lev had said. “Of course I have no idea what it says!”) His jeans are ripped at the knees and rolled up to mid-calf with the August heat bearing down on them. He’s wearing that baseball cap again and rolling a lollipop over in his mouth. Yaku can hear the rattle against his teeth.

He looks like a slob. Yaku would never wear something like that. It showed off his skin too much, the curve of lithe muscle and the porcelain color to Lev’s skin. Yaku watches a drip of sweat roll down Lev’s temple. Yes, if this were a date, Yaku would definitely have sent him home. And then followed. Because it worked on him.

_Oh dear_.

“Oh—Kuroo-san! Kenma-san!” Lev calls, waving at their friends.

Kuroo and Kenma are already waiting by the fountain, Kenma tapping lazily at his phone and Kuroo sitting next to him, chin on his shoulder. At Lev’s call, they both look up and Kuroo waves back. Kenma puts his phone away and stands.

“Yo,” Kuroo says. “It’s been a while, Lev. Drop by more often, would you? It’s like we don’t even go to the same school. I’m wounded.” He shoots Yaku a significant look. “Didn’t see you at lecture on Friday, Mori.”

Yaku winces as, predictably, Lev turns on him.

“Yaku-san!” He whines. “After you scolded me for being late to my morning class?”

Yaku puffs up his chest. “Do as I say, not as I do.”

“That’s no good, Yaku,” Kenma says. “If you don’t keep Lev in line, who will?”

“I’m not his keeper!”

“Kenma-san, I’m not a dog…”

Kuroo smiles. “I’m glad you two are as lively together as I remember.”

Yaku quirks an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kuroo’s smile takes on a mischievous quality. “All I’m saying is that Lev is a good influence on you. You’re so much more fun when you don’t have a stick up your ass.”

Yaku sputters. Lev points at himself innocently.

“Kuro, don’t be an ass,” Kenma sighs. To his friends, he says, “What Kuro means is that he’s happy you’ve been spending time together. You two were always so full of life in high school. I feel like Yaku would get lonely if he was on his own for too long.”

Yaku’s heart jumps to his throat. Did they know? He and Lev kept their relationship on the down low since their friends could be such nosy pests. Plus, Yaku is sure he’d be teased endlessly for falling for a klutz like Lev. Only Sugawara and Alisa knew about their hook-up. But could it be that Kuroo and Kenma, also…?

Lev crosses his arms behind his head. “Yaku’s a real help with some of my collateral courses,” Lev says. “I’d be up a tree if I had to pay a real tutor!”

The tension leaves Yaku’s shoulders. He huffs softly. “You pay me in coffee, anyway,” he says. He meets Lev’s eyes, trying his hardest to convey _thank you_ with his gaze.

“Well, whatever you’re doing, it’s working,” Kuroo says. “Keep up the good work!”

Lev pats Yaku on the back. “That’s right, Yaku-san. You may not be able to grow taller, but if you stick with me, I’m sure you’ll stop scowling as much.”

Yaku makes sure to hip bump Lev hard into a trash can.

As much as Sugawara had joked about their meet-up being a ‘double date,’ it really was just a group of friends hanging out. Lev hadn’t had time to explore local shops, and it wasn’t like Kenma voluntarily left his dorm, so it was up to Yaku and Kuroo to show their partners around town.

Kenma suffers through their perusal of clothing shops while Lev tries on whatever ridiculous outfit Kuroo throws together for him and Yaku suffers over how good Lev looks in all of them. Lev stops by a gift shop to get souvenirs for his family back in Russia. Kenma is finally tempted by a pet shop with a litter of black kittens in the window, and they all go in.

Yaku holds back a little bit. It’s not that he doesn’t like animals, especially cats, but the kittens are so tiny and squirmy, he’s afraid he’ll drop one. Kenma smiles for the first time since meeting up with Yaku and Lev. Kuroo’s eyes soften and he tries to scoop up as many kittens as he can hold in his arms, Yaku hovering to make sure none of the kittens drop. Lev laughs and laughs until it’s hard for Yaku to watch him.

“You have to hold one,” Lev insists.

“I…I can’t,” Yaku says. “I don’t want to hurt them.”

“That’s impossible,” Lev says. “You’ve never hurt anything in your life. Except me. Repeatedly.”

When Yaku still eyes him with suspicion, Lev changes his tone of voice. “Please?” he asks. “I promise you’ll love them. Do this for me.”

Yaku swallows. He can’t refuse a direct request like that.

Tentatively, he takes the least squirmy of the kittens in his hands. Predictably, the kitten wriggles, but Yaku finds he can keep her from falling if he clutches her close to his chest. Sensing the warmth and safety of Yaku’s hands and chest, the kitten stops struggling. Instead, she nestles closer and lets out the tiniest noise Yaku has ever heard.

His face crumples. He doesn’t even want to know what kind of expression he’s making. This is the purest creature he’s ever held in his hands, and he loves it. As she snuggles up to him, he turns to Lev to thank him, but the words get caught in his throat.

Lev is openly staring. His eyes are wide, and when Yaku meets his eyes, his mouth clicks shut and he looks away. Yaku can see the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. “Told you you would like them,” he says, but his voice is rough.

_What on Earth?_

Unfortunately, they have to leave the kittens behind, Kenma hissing that he swears he’ll be back to rescue them all. (“Not in our apartment, you don’t,” Kuroo tuts. “I _like_ not being evicted and getting my security deposit back.”) Yaku is just as sad to let the kittens go, but he’s more concerned with the strange air about Lev ever since he picked up that kitten.

It’s weird—Yaku is suddenly so much more aware of the world around him. He can feel how Lev lingers too far in his personal space, a perfect mirror of Kuroo in Kenma’s space. He’s aware of how Kuroo purposefully bumping shoulders with Kenma, attempting to slip his hand into the back pocket of Kenma’s jeans and getting his hand smacked for the nerve. He’s aware of the pout on Kuroo’s face and how it contrasts with the shine in his eyes when he looks at Kenma.

It’s because of this sudden awareness that Yaku feels when Lev’s knuckles brush his. The touch is slight and soft, but so unexpected that Yaku jerks his hand away instinctually. His eyes fly from Lev’s hand to his eyes.

He only sees it for a second, but a look of hurt flashes across Lev’s face. Yaku’s heart jumps. Had he been reaching for Yaku’s hand? Yaku doesn’t know how to process that. He doesn’t know what to feel. It’s all so sudden—Lev in his space, Lev touching him—when their friends are _right there_. Yaku doesn’t know what to do, so he flees. Picking up the pace, he catches up with Kenma, commenting on how his hair has grown so long now. Lev is at his side a heartbeat later, but Yaku feels the distance he puts between them and the hurt behind it.

“Ah, the crepe truck is back,” Yaku says, swallowing the guilt that clogs his throat.

Kuroo gives Yaku a significant look. “Ho? Is that the infamous Yaku sweet tooth making a comeback?”

Yaku reaches around Kenma to sock Kuroo in the arm. “Shut it,” he grumbles. “I haven’t had a crepe in ages.”

“If Yaku wants one, we’ll get it,” Kenma says. Kuroo can’t come up with a reason not to and Lev is silent, so they do.

Kenma immediately hones in on the chocolate lover’s crepe, but before he can pull his wallet out Kuroo steps up to the counter and puts in Kenma’s order for him, throwing in a latte for himself. “I can pay for it myself,” Kenma mutters, but he leans into Kuroo in a silent _thank you_.

Yaku’s eyes drift to Lev, waffling over the selection.

“Having trouble?” he asks, testing the waters.

Lev offers a sheepish smile back. “I’ve never had a crepe before.”

Good, Yaku hasn’t upset him too much. An idea forms in his head and he steps forward, taking a page from Kuroo’s book.

“Two berry crepes, please,” he orders.

Lev sputters. “I can pay—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yaku says. “I’m still your senpai, aren’t I? I’m allowed to treat my kouhai if I want to. Especially if they don’t know what to order.”

He smiles. Lev’s mouth curls up at the edges and he nods. It feels like a victory.

They walk and eat which—not one of their best ideas. Yaku struggles with cleanliness when there’s cream squirting out everywhere. Kenma makes no pretenses about staying clean; he gets chocolate everywhere while Kuroo frets and swipes at him with a napkin, swearing when Kenma pushes him off. Lev takes to his crepe with mechanical delicacy, tearing into it piece by piece to avoid getting strawberries and blueberries and cream all over the place.

He’s successful for a while, but when Yaku looks away and looks back, Lev has somehow managed to get a dollop of cream on his nose. It surprises a laugh out of Yaku, which stops Lev in his tracks.

“What?” he says.

Yaku rolls his eyes and uses his thumb to swipe the cream off Lev’s nose. He sticks his thumb in his mouth and licks off the cream. “Silly,” he says, more fondness than he’d intended in his voice.

For the second time that day, Lev is paralyzed. His eyes are on—Yaku’s mouth, wait, is there something on him, too? He’s about to ask when Lev speaks.

“Yaku-san,” he says. “Can we go back to your place after this?”

Yaku furrows his brows. “Uh, sure.” He’s not sure why Lev would want to hang out at his apartment after spending so much time together on the friend-date, but it’s not like he _minds_ Lev. “What for?”

 

\---------------------------

 

Lev makes it pretty clear what for the moment they walk into the apartment. Yaku closes the door behind him, locks it, and then he’s spun around and his back pressed against the door.

Lev used to be so shy when touching Yaku. His hands on Yaku used to be so delicate they tickled and his lips soft as a flutter of eyelashes against Yaku’s lips. But time and desperation change a man. This Lev has no fear, knows no self-consciousness. He knows that he wants Yaku and that Yaku wants him, too. And he takes what he wants.

Lev’s mouth is hard against Yaku’s, his fingers locked in Yaku’s hair and tugging, leading Yaku by the lips into a dance between their bodies. Yaku arches up against Lev when he slips his tongue in with no hesitancy and Lev’s hand falls to his lower back, pulling Yaku against him and grinding right back. Yaku’s breath and heartbeat stutters, but he doesn’t falter.

_So this is why you were so anxious to leave_ , Yaku thinks. _You practically shoved me away from Kuroo and Kenma. All so you could drag me back to my own cave and have your way with me? What an animal._

Yaku wraps a leg around the back of Lev’s thigh in a silent command. Lev knows this body language by now—they’ve fucked more than Yaku has time to count. Lev lifts Yaku up by the thighs and slams his back against the door. Yaku wraps his legs around Lev’s back and pants as Lev ruts up against him. He’s moved from kissing Yaku to mouthing at his neck. There’s an ache and the brush of teeth, and then Yaku hisses, half in warning.

_You know I don’t like hickeys_ , Yaku thinks. _I don’t like being stared at in class. You better make up for tha—aaa…_

His train of thought trails off because the sensation of Lev sucking at his neck is pleasant, like the ache of stretching muscles. It’d been so long since he’d let Lev give him a hickey. Lev drags his tongue across the sore spot and then leaves a trail of kisses up Yaku’s neck before he bites at Yaku’s earlobe.

Yaku jolts in his arms, rocking against Lev and letting out a tiny noise that doesn’t escape Lev’s notice if the smile against his skin is anything to go by. Yaku fists his hands in Lev’s hair and forces him to meet Yaku’s eyes.

“Are you going to tease me all day?” Yaku asks. “Or do you plan on fucking me at some point?”

In response, Lev pulls away from the door, Yaku having to wrap his arms around Lev’s neck to keep from falling backwards. (There’s something unbearably sexy about a man who’s able to pick you up and hold you against a wall during foreplay and sex. Even though Yaku knows he’s tiny, he’s not immune to the reality that Lev could benchpress him easily.)

Lev practically throws Yaku onto the couch and then climbs on top of him, eyes wild. Yaku’s heart has been going a hundred miles an hour since the door closed, but seeing how wide Lev’s are and how fixated he is on Yaku warms Yaku from his ears to his toes and sets his heart racing anew. He’s a rabbit in the grasp of a lion cub—no. Lev wasn’t as young as he used to be. Now he knew what he wanted.

“I thought we were going to fuck against the door,” Yaku babbles. “I’m a little disappointed.”

“I have a better idea,” Lev says.

He drags Yaku’s pants off, then his boxers, and then Yaku is aware of precisely how cool his apartment is. He squeezes his legs together, but Lev isn’t having that. With greater gentleness than Yaku was aware he was capable in a riled up state, Lev pulls his legs apart slots himself in between them. Yaku can’t watch. He can’t bear to watch. His legs are quivering and he can feel the flush across his cheeks. They didn’t usually do this.

Lev presses a kiss against Yaku’s inner thigh. Then another, further down, then another. Yaku feels a shiver down his spine. Lev exhales against the sensitive skin between Yaku’s thighs and his legs squeeze together instinctually. Lev laughs, just a breathy little thing, and keeps his legs parted.

“Tease,” Yaku whimpers. “Just—just do— _oh_.” The rest of his words are stolen away with the breath he sucks in when Lev presses his tongue against Yaku, flickering along his skin. Yaku doesn’t mean to be loud—really, he doesn’t—but it’s impossible not to when there’s a boy between his legs, doing what he’s good at.

And Lev _is_ good. Through trial and error, he’s learned exactly what Yaku likes. For all he complains, Yaku likes to be teased. He wants to hard and fast press of Lev’s tongue against his clit and then he wants it gone, only the lightest touches of the tip of his tongue. He wants Lev to lick inside him and ignore his clit altogether when he’s at his most desperate, and then he wants fingers to replace his tongue. He wants to come so hard that his back arches and shakes wrack his body.

It takes a while, but Yaku gets there. He gets to the point that he can feel himself tipping over the edge, his world blurred down and focused to a single point between his legs. He can’t think about anything else but Lev and his beautiful mouth, fingers curled in his hair. He thinks that if he dies from an orgasm, it wouldn’t be a bad way to go.

And then Lev…stops.

Yaku makes a noise that will haunt him for nights to come, but he opens his eyes to see Lev pulling away, _why was he pulling away_? Yaku opens his mouth to complain, to say something, but then Lev is rolling his jeans off his body and pulling a condom out of his back pocket and Yaku realizes this is yet another part of Lev’s plan to tease Yaku to the point of ultimate suffering.

Off with the boxers, on with the condom. Lev is hard and dripping—ha, did it turn him on so much to be of use to Yaku-san? His Yaku-san? Yaku feels a smile, wicked and knowing, spread across his face.

He reaches up to press the back of his hand to Lev’s cheek. “Good boy,” he says.

Lev’s eyes widen and for a fraction of a second, he goes perfectly still. And then he’s a flurry of action, grabbing Yaku by the hips and dragging him closer so that he can slide inside him so easily Yaku groans. Lev doesn’t fuck around this time—he’s all business, pounding Yaku into the couch until Yaku can feel the orgasm he had been kept from rising inside him. He comes with a high-pitched cry, entire body convulsing and curling up into Lev’s chest.

Lev pins him back down and snaps his hips against Yaku’s, panting. He couldn’t have lasted for more than two minutes before he’s also shaking and slowing the pace of his thrusts. Yaku doesn’t care. Lev came? Good for him. Yaku is a puddle of sensitivity and warmth right now in the light of the post-orgasm high.

He grunts slightly when Lev collapses against his chest flopping over Yaku and covering his entire, tiny body with spaghetti limbs. Yaku shoves at him, but Lev only groans and refuses to budge. He’s still inside Yaku, too.

“Oi, noodle boy,” Yaku grumbles. “Go clean up. And get off me, you giant lump!”

“Nooooo,” Lev groans, but gives in with one more hard shove. He rolls off the couch and trudges to the bathroom. Yaku follows soon after to clean up, grabbing a pair of pajama boxers on the way to the bathroom.

When he comes out, changed, he finds Lev slouching across his couch again. He pats the seat next to him.

Yaku makes a face. “My juices are there. That’s disgusting.”

Lev makes a face right back. “Ugh. Word choice, Yaku-san.”

Yaku rolls his eyes and huffs. “I can’t believe you dragged me back to my own apartment to have sex with me. You know you could’ve just asked.”

“And ruin the date?” Lev says, laughing. “No way.”

Yaku’s heart jumps at the word ‘date.’ “It doesn’t really matter,” he says, words spilling out of his mouth in a half-panic. “We could’ve ditched the hangout. I wouldn’t’ve minded if this is what you wanted to do the whole time.”

Lev tilts his head to the side. “I wanted to go on that date, though.”

_That word again_. “Yeah,” Yaku laughs, “but you also wanted to get into my pants bad enough to end it quickly.”

He watches the play of emotions across Lev’s face before his expression settles into something…hard. Flat. “Is that what you think I think of you? Just sex?”

“Well…we are hooking up, aren’t we?” Yaku says, swallowing. “Sex is always going to be a part of that, isn’t it?”

Lev’s eyes flutter closed. He leaves his eyes closed for a moment and then opens them. Stands. Grabs his hat, that had been discarded in their hurry.

“I had a nice time today, Yaku-san,” Lev says. “Goodbye.”

“Wait, Lev,” Yaku says. He sighs. “I’ve upset you. What did I do?”

Lev hesitates at the door, but doesn’t look back. “You’re smart, Yaku-san. Really smart. But sometimes, you can be so stupid.” And then he leaves.

Yaku stares at the closed door for several long moments. Then he walks over to the couch, collapses onto it, and pulls out his phone. Times like these called for Sugawara.

 

\-----------------------------

 

For the next week, Yaku is very systematically ignored. Lev replies late to texts, and with one or two word answers. He refuses all invitations to come over. He refuses all invitations to go out. Yaku even offers to help Lev study, but is turned down on that front, too. Lev does not pass by him on campus, nor can he be found in his usual haunts around the library.

Yaku is, for all intents and purposes, cut off. The smell of coffee lingers in his apartment, but it’s the stale smell of instant coffee from a bag.

Sugawara, for the first time in his life, is also unhelpful. He seems disappointed in Yaku, somehow. He just keeps referencing their Friday conversation and insisting that if Yaku doesn’t figure out his own feelings, he’ll never be able to understand Lev’s and keep hurting him.

Yaku doesn’t want to figure out his own feelings. He wants the status quo, he was happy with the status quo, he didn’t have anything to fear from the status quo. If he and Lev became something more, then…suddenly there were too many variables to comprehend. How would their friends react? Their families? Would they grow closer, or further away? What if they grew to hate each other?

Wasn’t the status quo safest? Yaku didn’t want to disturb peaceful mornings and movie nights with takeout. If they changed their relationship, wasn’t there a risk that all of that could be lost? How Yaku feels is beside the point—even if he wants more, he’s more afraid to lose what he’s got.

How Lev feels, however, is a factor he never considered. He assumed Lev was as content as he was, but that was…apparently not the case.

Yaku groans and buries his head in his arms. He was such an idiot.

It’s Saturday, a week after that disastrous end to such a great day, and Lev is still giving him the cold shoulder. Yaku had thought the boy was too clingy to do such a thing as _ignore_ his friend…partner…senpai. But maybe there were a lot of things Yaku didn’t know about him. He’s waiting on a call from Kuroo about meeting up to study together since Kuroo is _apparently_ the only one of Yaku’s friends he hasn’t managed to piss off. His phone buzzes and he taps the screen lazily. Then sits bolt upright.

_> >From: noodle_

_come 2 the nekoma gym asap_

Yaku frowns. Well, if that wasn’t a suspicious message. What was Lev going to do, murder him? Why did he want Yaku to come to the gym? In any case, Yaku can’t go—he already has plans to meet up with Kuroo.

_> >From: You_

_I can’t, I have plans with Kuroo._

_> >From: noodle_

_thats fine hes here too_

“What the fuck,” Yaku says aloud. What the fuck was going on? By now, though, Yaku’s curiosity is peaked. He’ll go, just to figure out what this mystery is all about. Fortunately, the gym is only a short train ride away. Yaku shoves some sneakers onto his feet and heads out.

Lev refuses to text back when Yaku says he’s coming, and again when Yaku asks what’s going on. He’s sure his face has permanent frown lines by the time he reaches the gym. Tch, what were those idiots thinking? Wouldn’t the door be locked?

Yaku tries the door anyway, and is surprised when it opens easily. He pokes his head inside, but the gym is dark. Something is definitely off. Yaku takes a tentative step forward, parting his lips to call out, when the lights flick on.

“Happy birthday, Yaku-san!”

The entirety of the Nekoma Volleyball Club, old and new, is there. Yaku recognizes kouhai, senpai, former classmates, and even a few new faces. All wearing giant smiles at the look of complete shock on his face. Most decked out with party hats and confetti canons that they fire off in unison. There’s a cake on a table behind the volleyball club members. They're a day early--it's only August 7th--but it's probably the only day they could get the gym free. Yaku feels a smile crack his face.

And at the center of it all, Kuroo looking smug and satisfied with the results.

“Don’t look at me,” Kuroo says, as if reading his mind. “It was Lev’s idea.”

“Lev?” Yaku says.

Lev’s not exactly hard to spot. He looks sheepish, not at all like how his short texts and refusals had sounded. He scratches the back of his head.

“Sorry about ignoring you so much,” Lev says. “I was worried I would give away the surprise if we hung out this week.”

Yaku blinks. “You’re not…mad at me?”

Something passes over Lev’s face, so quick that Yaku might have missed it if he wasn’t looking for it. He covers it up with a smile. “No. Sorry, I was a little short with you the other day.”

Yaku’s heart throbs. No matter what he said, Lev had been hurting this week. Yaku had hurt him, and yet Lev had put his feelings to the side so that he could plan a wonderful surprise party for Yaku. He was putting on a brave face, but even now, he was hurting.

Yaku knows what he needs to do. This isn’t something that he should be worrying himself sick over, their relationship. Yes, things could go wrong. Yes, their friends and family might not approve. But that boy standing in front of him? The one that would put Yaku before himself without Yaku asking? That was a boy worth taking risks for.

Yaku walks, practically runs across the gym, stops short in front of Lev, and pulls his face down so that he can kiss him in front of all their friends.

Kuroo lets out a low whistle. Kenma laughs lightly. Inuoka and Shibayama make some kind of unintelligible noise that sounds like it might be approval. Taketora shouts something that sounds like “fuckin’ finally!” The rest of the gathered applaud and whistle at the display of affection.

“Wow,” Kuroo says. “That took you _way_ too long.”

Yaku pulls away from Lev, sputtering. “You _knew_?”

“Sugawara is more of a gossip than you think he is,” Kuroo says. “Plus, we all, you know, have _eyes_.”

Yaku turns back to Lev with wide eyes that are only matched by Lev’s own wide eyes and the pretty blush across his cheeks.

“Yaku-san?” he rasps.

Yaku crosses his arms. “Well…well, see…there’s this _idiot_ senpai who was so afraid of messing up his relationship with his beloved kouhai that he didn’t even consider that his kouhai had already considered the risks of getting more involved with his senpai and was going for it. It took a good push from said kouhai to encourage the senpai to confess his feelings were the same the whole time. Or something like that.”

Lev’s eyes, somehow, widen further. “Then, does that mean—?”

Yaku sighs and looks away. “Do you want to…get a coffee or something…some time…”

Lev’s eyes soften. He smiles. “I think I might know a place.” And then, with the cheers of their friends goading him on, Lev leans in to kiss Yaku again.

Yaku swears he smells coffee on Lev’s breath.


End file.
